


be scared with me

by erintoknow



Series: Fallen Hero Sidestep AU Fanfics [17]
Category: Fallen Hero Series - Malin Rydén
Genre: Alternate Universe, Crimes & Criminals, F/F, Heist, Kissing, POV Female Character, POV Second Person, Trans Character, Trans Female Character, slowburn
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-02-10
Updated: 2020-02-10
Packaged: 2021-02-27 23:07:50
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,244
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22653748
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/erintoknow/pseuds/erintoknow
Summary: Zia Basri, AKA 'Nemesis' has been your go-to partner in crime for awhile now. Long enough for you to realize; that cool demeanor she puts on is hiding something. Hopefully nothing that upsets whatshouldbe a routine operation.
Relationships: Sidestep/Sidestep (Fallen Hero)
Series: Fallen Hero Sidestep AU Fanfics [17]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1433116
Kudos: 4





	be scared with me

**Author's Note:**

> Zia loaned generously by [Swan](https://ratkingkisses.tumblr.com)

“Come on darling, no more dawdling!” Zia Basri pulls at your arm, her elbow locked with yours. You let her pull you along, past the doorman whose thoughts are none the wiser over your faked tickets. “Now _this_ is a party.” Zia’s smile is broad and unguarded as her eyes sweep over the ostentatious gold and silver decorations of the wide ballroom floor.

Your own eyes fixate on the large chandelier hanging in the center of the room. In its shadow is a buffet table. Or more accurately, a series of buffet tables arranged into a rectangle. Hrm. Anyone gets any funny ideas about the lights, only the help managing the food will be crushed.

Disappointing.

No pressure pushes down on your awareness, no sensation of static drowns out the buzz of minds around the two of you. The Dampeners aren’t on then. Good. That bribe hadn’t been for nothing. That’ll make tonight much, much easier.

You glance back over to Zia, slightly above eye-height for once thanks to her high-heeled shoes. “S–stay focused.”

Zia doesn’t look at you, only the slightest quirk of her lips. “Of course.”

“I’m serious.” You hiss. “We only have the one shot at this.”

“Ari. Dear.” Zia laughs, shaking her head. “I’m a professional. Please.”

“Yeah. N–not – not helping.”

Robbing from, Henry Yasuda, one of the richest men in Los Diablos is not exactly the smartest thing you’ve ever done, but if it puts a dent in his prestige and political power it’ll be worth it. That was Zia’s pitch to you anyway. You’re pretty sure she doesn’t care about the political angle. Just getting a piece of the pie.

And, well, that money would help along several other projects you’ve had sitting on the back burner.

And it’s a _very_ large pie.

You put your free hand to the frame of your sunglasses. Is it gouache to wear them indoors at a high society event? Probably, but fuck these guys. No one seems to be paying either of you much mind. Lost in their only little worlds, no doubt helped along by Zia’s telepathic talents. You can feel the edge of her awareness brush past yours, getting a feel for the room at large.

“Relax.”

You snap your head back to Zia, and she laughs at you.

“It’s a good plan.” She disentangles your arm from hers. “I’ll finish taking stock here. You take care of setting up plan B.” With a soft push to your back, Zia sends you stumbling out away from her.

Right.

The plan.

Stick to the plan.

You made the plan. So. Better stick to it. The plan, that is.

Yes.

Adjusting the strap of your purse you glance around, pick up the location of the restroom from a nearby mind and head off in that direction. In a fashion, the plan is the same as the original Plan. From the Gala debut. Only this time, the explosions are plan B. If the two of you can get out of this without any fighting, that would be ideal. No fighting, no hint that anything’s wrong.

And if you get caught… well, that’s where plan ‘B for bomb’ comes in. No time for thieves if super villains are attacking right? Slip out in the chaos. Ideally with the prize still.

In a locked bathroom stall, you remove the explosive charges from the false bottom of your purse and prime them for the radio signal. Back in at the top of your purse they go and you take a minute at the bathroom sink before for cover and to psych yourself up.

You’ve been over the schematics a million times. You know exactly where to place the charges to maximize noise and debris while minimizing the risk of casualties. And if something does get hurt… well, these people are all rich out of their minds anyway. A little psychological scarring builds character.

Exiting the bathroom again, you spare a thought towards Zia as you make your rounds around the ballroom. She seems to be doing okay. Thoughts calm except for – well, she’s always eager for excuse to really stretch her abilities. Show off. Showing off for you, you’re not sure. You’re the only one that knows Zia Basri as anything but a reclusive and retired industrialist. The Nemesis to your Adrestia.

You linger by a wide, double-paned window, one hand surreptitiously palming the last charge onto the rim of a potted plant. You’ve got a clear view of Zia across the bustle of the floor. Wrapped in a gown of black with pink accents, the metallic silver glint from her jewelry catching the lights. She’s chatting up another woman in a sharp black suit. Typical.

The two of you should have gone your separate ways after the escape. Your continued partnership like this is a risk. A weak point. One of you screws up, and you’ll both be damned. This is it. This is the last time you’re working with her. This time for real.

Getting close to people is a liability for… people, like yourselves. Depending on others is a liability. And Zia is arrogant about the extent of her telepathy and full of herself besides. Sure, she’s saved you a couple times at this point but it was a matter of practicality. You going down would only risk exposing her as well.

Look out for number one, that’s all that –

The woman Zia’s been talking to laughs, stepping into Zia’s personal space. Wrapping an arm around her back and – oh. They’re kissing. You grit your teeth. Zia enjoys flirting, of course she’s going to flirt here. Hardly a surprise for this to happen.

God they’re going at it. This is risky as hell. Even Zia has to know that. Look at her body language. Stiff, and – is that her hand shaking? You’re too far away to be sure. You shake your head. Try not to clench your fists as you walk over. Walk. Not storm. Relaxed, not tense. Why would you be tense? Absurd. Crazy.

“Basri. There you are.” You flash a terse smile at Zia and her new ‘friend.’

They break apart. Zia quickly stepping away and smoothing out her dress. Her companion raises an eyebrow, looking between the two of you.

“B–becker.” Zia nods at you, flashes a smile back, “Back so soon?”

“Mmhm.” You step towards her, a hand on her arm. “Can I talk with you?” You glance at the other woman. “Alone?”

“I – yes. Yes, of course.” She gives an awkward wave as you pull her away. “Loved chatting with you dear!”

You pull her along, into one of the side hallways stretching down into the wings of the building. You let go of her arm, glancing back towards the ballroom. “Are you okay?”

Zia frowns, rubbing where you touched her. “I was doing just fine until you so _rudely_ pulled me away.”

“I–I–I can’t – Okay. Fine. We need to – to talk. Now.” You glance around, “Privately.”

“So eager to keep me for yourself, sweetheart?”

You ignore her jab, an open door to a study off the hallway catches your attention. That’ll work. Don’t pick up anyone else inside. You push Zia into the room, pulling the door shut behind you both. “What – what the fuck were you thinking!?”

The other woman smiles quietly to herself, easing out the crinkles in her dress. “I don’t understand what you mean, my dear.” She props herself up against a wardrobe, crossing her arms. “We’re here for a job. Doesn’t mean I can’t have a little fun along the way.”

“Fun!?” You grit your teeth, strain to keep your voice down. “That–that–that woman was halfway down your throat!”

Zia’s smile broadens into a smirk. “Jealous?”

You step back, “N–no! Ugh! You always do this!” Throw your hands into the air as you storm over to the room’s one window. “Suppose Little Miss Handsy got too frisky? Huh? What’re you going to do then?”

Zia yawns, waving the thought away with a hand. “Oh, I suppose I’d have to wipe the poor dear’s mind. Make her think she got a little too drunk.” She shrugs. “Nothing would happen.”

“And the security cameras? Everyone else in the fucking ballroom?”

“Please, sweetheart, You of all people should know _just_ how powerful I am these days.”

You turn away from the window to stare her down again. “That’s not – that’s not your risk to take, Zia! W–we’re in this together!”

She doesn’t look back at you, studying her fingernails. “For as long as it’s convenient at any rate, my dear handmaiden.”

“Oh fuck off.” You storm towards her, “You can’t keep treating everything like it’s some big game!”

“Isn’t it?” Her smile collapses into a frown as she finally looks over at you. “I’m sick of hiding all the time, and I’m sick of these…” She tugs at the collar of her dress, a look of disgust on her face. “ _turtlenecks._ All the time! One day I want to wear something flashy and not fear for my life!”

Ah. “So y–you were scared back there.”

Zia snaps back to you, letting go of her dress. “I didn’t say that!”

You shake your head, rubbing at your temples. “You were tenser then a coiled spring. I saw your hand shaking.”

“They were not.” Zia snorts. “The only scared woman here is you, dearie. Scared, and _jealous_.”

“I wasn’t–” you swallow the words back, heart in your throat. “Okay. You know what. Fine. Fine! I–I–I am. Jealous. I admit it.” You put a hand to your chest, as if you could hold your heart in from exploding.

Zia blinks, taken aback. You’ve called her bluff.

“At least – at least I can. Admit it. You – you cocoon yourself in your little act and you think if no one sees the real you, nothing can hurt you!” You laugh, can’t believe you’re actually saying this out loud finally. “When we first met, I thought you were so – so ‘cool’ so ‘imposing.’ That you had it all together, but you know what?” You jab a finger at her. “I–I–I see right through you now. You’re just as scared as I am. No,” You shake your head. “ _More_ scared! You’re too scared to even _let_ yourself be scared.”

Silence stretches out between the two of you. Ah fuck. You went too far this time. You’ve blown it.

“Are you done?” Zia stares at you, her expression unreadable. Shaken? Uncertain? Or are you just projecting?

Take a deep breath. Hold. Exhale. “N–no. There’s, um. There’s one more thing.”

“Wha–” Zia doesn’t get to finish speaking as you pull her into an embrace. Her body is rigid in your arms.

“It’s… it’s okay to be scared.”

There’s silence, and then, a weak laugh. “We should… finish the mission.”

You let go of her, heat flashing across your face. God. You idiot, what were you thinking? Zia steps away, and quickly averts her head. But not before you catch a flush across her face. You try not to stare. Thoughts like smoke, melting away before you can read anything coming off her.

You cough and take a step back yourself. “R–right. The… the mission.” You run a hand under your purse strap. “Plan B is ready.”

Zia looks back to you, her usual cool demeanor coming back. “Then let’s get started on Plan A.” She sweeps a hand back through her hair. Pulling back her hand, she twirls a pair of bobby pins between her fingers before they vanish up a sleeve. “Lead the way, my dear handmaiden.”

You roll your eyes and don’t say anything. You’ve given up on the whole name thing. You could just change yours, but it’s the principle of the issue. It’d be like admitting defeat. Putting a hand on the door handle, you pause a moment to get a sense if anyone’s looking out in the hallway. Satisfied you open the door, Zia following you back outside. “Alright, first stop the security station. You ready to fish?”

Zia nods in the affirmative as you glance back to her, a smirk playing across her face. “Cakewalk.”

“Just – just try to restrain yourself. And – wait for my signal. No more diversions. Stay focused.”

“Getting bossy aren’t we?” Zia laughs as you glare at her. “Worried?”

“You wanted me to plan this. So I – I did.”

“Relax. I have total confidence in you.”

You frown at that. “We meet up at the vault.” Turning away you hesitate, glance backwards. “Be careful. I – I’m fucking serious.”

* * *

Sneaking into security offices is starting to become old hat. Can’t deny that you and Zia make a good team. One takes care of the CCTV and other security, the other gets the target to practically hand over the goods. If anyone’s caught on yet, there hasn’t been any sign of it.

It only takes a few carefully planted suggestions to pull the sap stuck watching the security cams into a deep sleep. Stepping around him, you plug the USB stick with the virus ready to deploy. The monitor screens flicker for a moment and then nothing. You bite back a smile as you pull the stick back out. By the time they notice anything wrong, _if_ they notice anything wrong, it’ll be too late.

From there, it’s a matter of a few careful keypresses to turn off the laser detectors and alarm system. You’ve got maybe half an hour before someone checks on the office and resets the alarms.

Plenty of time.

Hopefully.

Closing your eyes you stretch out your awareness, find the hazy void of thought that masks Zia’s presence and give it a sharp prod. A moment passes and you feel a hard shove in return.

Okay. Great. So far, so good.

Closing the door behind you you set off down the hallway. You’ll take the long way around. Hopefully Zia doesn’t need any help. She’s a better telepath than you are. Better at manipulating people even without that advantage. She’ll be fine. She has to be fine. It’ll work out you just have to –

You pull hard against the wall as a guard walks past. Nudge his attention away from spotting you alongside the hallway. He walks past without stopping, eyes straight ahead, whistling a bored tune.

You should spend less energy worrying about Zia and more on paying attention to yourself. Cursing under your breath, you wait a second to confirm and then head off again. You and Zia both have your skinsuits on under everything, if it comes down to it. It’d be such a waste of a dress though.

The vault is further back into the mansion, away from the bustle of the ballroom and the party showing off Yasuda’s influence. As you get closer, there’s no sign of Zia. Already inside? No – you can pick her coming up the other end of the hallway. Behind schedule, but still within allowance.

Zia catches your eye and the two of you exchange nods. Trailing on Zia’s arm is Henry Yasuda himself, babbling some braggart story that Zia clearly hasn’t been paying attention to. He looks at you, eyes sliding off you face, a dazed, glossy look to them. Dreaming? Well, as long as Zia can get him to open the door.

You hang back, taking flank. “Any trouble?”

“Of course not.” Zia pulls her arm away from Yasuda, giving him a soft push towards the door. “Now, what did you want to show me, sweetheart?”

The man mumbles something, an unintelligible mix of English, Spanish, and Japanese. Presses his hand against the door, frowns, then tries again. Twice more before he finds the keypad.

Zia snickers, “Find the right strings and they fall over themselves to help you ruin them.”

“F–focus.”

“Oh, you’re no fun.” She waves you away, pouting. “Look at him, thinking he’s getting something out of this. Adorable.”

You hold your breath. On the third try, the keypad turns green under Yasuda’s fingers and the doors click open. The two of you let him enter first, following quickly behind before the doors can shut.

Zia claps her hands together, looking around the shelves lining the walls of the modest-sized office. “Very nice.” Instead of books, a collection of jewels, fossils, and historical artifacts fill the shelves. A collection of paintings are haphazardly arranged on easels in one corner. Temporary relocation during the party? Huh. They’re either worth a _lot_ , or not enough.

Glancing over at Zia, you grab her arm, pulling her hand back from a display box of gems. “Don’t touch anything.” You hiss. “No fingerprints.”

“You’ve got space in that purse.”

“Limited space. Com’on.” You gesture to Yasuda. “Put him out and keep an eye open while I look.”

Grumbling, Zia waves at Yusada dismissively and the man crumbles into a heap in the corner, lights out. “What’s the point of breaking in if we don’t steal anything?”

“Priorities.” There’s a desk and computer at the far end. Dipping a hand into your purse you pull out a pair of plastic gloves, snapping them on. “This is worth more, and harder to track.”

“But where’s the _romance_?” Zia’s eyes dip down to your hands. “I don’t suppose you…?”

“No.”

“Ugh.”

“Could have packed your own.”

Zia doesn’t have anything to say to that.

You don’t risk sitting down on the chair, pulling it back and out of the way as you jam another USB stick into an open port. A few nerve-wracking seconds later the login screen on the monitor disappears, replaced by the desktop. Fist pump in the air, just the tiniest, most restrained motion, but it catches Zia’s attention.

“Going well?”

Nod as you sort through the files, pulling passwords, account numbers, anything that looks like it might be valuable. “Fucker thought he’d be safe keeping his computer off the network.” You snicker, shaking your head. “We should be able to do some real damage before they catch on.”

“Mmm.”

“Look at some of this stuff, this folder is literally labeled ‘Blackmail’ it’s beyond parody. It doesn’t even look to be encrypted. These people really think they can just do whatever they want–”

“Look, dear, I’ve been… thinking about what you said.”

The tentative tone in Zia’s voice gives you pause and you spare a glance over to her. Your fellow super villain is pacing the walls of the room, facing away from you.

“You’re just… well, so weak–”

You frown and shift your focus back to the computer. For a moment you thought this was going to be something heartfelt. But no. It’s just Zia being Zia. What did you really expect? She keeps talking but you’re only half paying attention, waiting for the jab or the fake-out you’ve come to expect from her.”

“–but your weakness hasn’t made you any less strong; And I… well…”

A sharp piercing ringing cuts through the area. You jump, cursing as you bang your knee on the edge of the desk.

“That wasn’t me!” Zia is tense, on alert as you look over to her, quickly backing away from a shelf.

“W–what did you – I told you not to–”

“Was hardly my doing, darling, I promise you.” Zia frowns, a challenge in her stare. “You ready to go?”

You tsk, wincing at the computer screen. “C–can you buy me a minute?”

Zia glances towards the far corner of the room, then up towards the ceiling. You can feel the edge of her telepathic presence skirting around you. “I just redirected to guards who were on their way here. As beautiful and talented as I am, my dear, I can’t keep that up forever before it becomes obvious.”

“Right.” You take a breath, chewing on the inside of your cheek until you taste blood. “Right. Okay. Okay.” Check the contents of the USB. Not everything you wanted, but can you really afford to waste any more time? But – but – but…

“Ariadne!” Zia’s voice is sharp and loud, cutting through the noise both in the air and in your head. You snap your head up, find her eyes.

You nod. Take a breath. You dip down to pull the USB out of it’s port and slip it back into your purse, then log off the computer. “Okay. Let’s go.” Power-walking back to Zia, already waiting by the doors. Peeling off the plastic gloves and tucking them away as you go. One hand in your purse, finds the remote detonator, thumbing the trigger.

Zia eyes your arm and cocks her head to the side, a smirk on her face. “Time for plan B?”

“Time for plan B.”

Her grin only widens.

You press the trigger as the two of you step into the hallway. Half a second later, a soft ‘boom’ rattles the paintings hanging from the walls followed by series of screams.

Your partner in crime cackles, clapping her hands together. “Well! I suppose we should be good girls and evacuate with the rest of the sheep now.”

You bite back a smile. “I sincerely doubt anyone has called _you_ a ‘good girl.’”

In the chaos of people fleeing the smoke, Zia and yourself are able to slip back into the crowd. Just another pair of wannabe socialites having a terrible time of it. Nothing to see here. Once outside, you’re able to slip onto the street before the police arrive. Walk a few blocks before calling a taxi cab.

The come down from after an operation is always a little surreal. That slowly sinking realization that once again, you haven’t been caught. Zia directs the cab driver back to her penthouse suite, because of course you always have to debrief there. She has _standards_ after all. Ones much higher than a dingy corner of a refurbished workshop.

As soon as the two of you are safely inside, you drop your purse on a table and collapse onto an open couch. You can change clothes later, when the shock finally wears off.

Zia snickers from the kitchen table, something alcoholic and fruity smelling in her hand. “Tired already, my dear handmaiden?”

“Aren’t you?”

“This is the part I hate. Where all the, the uh, the doubts come filtering in.” You groan into the couch mattress. “Why did the alarm go off early? Will Yasuda remember us at all? What if there was some sort of recording device or secondary CCTV we missed? What if someone places us there and realizes we weren’t on the guest list? What if all the files are dummy data or one of them is some kind of trap? What if–”

“Ariadne.” Zia laughs, cutting you off. “Relax darling. Everything went fine. Between my talents and your planning, everything went off without a hitch. It was flawless much like these…”

You hear a a solid ‘clunk, clunk, clunk’ of something heavy being laid out on the kitchen table. Eyes wide you shot up from the couch and stare over at Zia who sits back, watching you, a sly smirk on her face. A series of brilliant blue sapphires glitter under the kitchen light.

“Oh my god.” Your voice cracks. “I – I told you not to touch anything.”

She sighs, rolling her eyes. “If we didn’t steal _something_ they’d know you’d broken into that computer for sure.” She picks up one of the gems, turning it over in her fingers. “A common jewel thief is _much_ less concerning than a hacker wouldn’t you say?”

You blink.

Frown.

“I…” Chewing at your cheek again you get up from the couch and walk over to the table. “You’re right.”

“I’m right?” Zia blinks, taken aback, a hand to her chest. Her surprise is gone just as quickly, cool confidence radiating back out. “Of course I am.”

“Don’t let it get to your head.” You try to scowl, but can’t keep it up under the shear pleased expression on Zia’s face.

Zia preens, brushing her hair back with a smile. “No, no, do keep going. Tell me how I’m right again?”

“I take it back.”

“Too late.”

“Fuck you.”

“You’d like that, wouldn’t you, Miss Jealousy?”

“I–” You shut your mouth and purse your lips, glaring down at Zia in her seat. “What was that you were trying to say back there, anyway? Right before _you_ set the alarm off?”

“I–? I did _not_ set off the alarm!” Zia scoffs, hand to her chest again. “And anyway, I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“Hrm.” Something in the back of your head screams at you as you step in closer. This is a mistake. You can’t trust giving someone like Zia this much power over you. And yet –

“Ariadne?” Zia stares back at you, challenging.

You dip in, a kiss on the cheek and pull back before she can make a decision either way. Zia blinks, caught in a moment of unguarded shock as she puts a hand to where your lips touched her. The full weight of her telepathic presence presses against yours. Probing, questioning. “S–still… still scared, I see.”

“ _Me_? Scared?” Zia scoffs, pulling her hand back down, willing her expression back to something more neutral. “You’re mistaken.”

You bite your lip. Fuck. There’s too many ways this ends badly. What are you thinking? Have you completely lost your mind?

“Well then…” You offer a hand out to your partner-in-crime. “Be scared with me?”


End file.
